Superman
by DZ2
Summary: One-Shot: "I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than some pretty face beside a train and it's not easy to be me." It took a little longer, and a friendly face, for Harry to learn to look away from his heart's desire.


Superman: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own 'Superman' or anything associated with it: all rights belong to Five for Fighting and the original creators.

**Plot:** "I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than some pretty face beside a train and it's not easy to be me." It took a little longer, and a friendly face, for Harry to learn to look away from his heart's desire.

**Author's Note: **So, this is a one-shot idea that's somewhat inspired by the song mentioned in the title – **Superman by Five for Fighting** – and, well, it's strange because it's something different, but with a feeling of familiarity that I hope you can enjoy.

And, as always, don't like, don't read.

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

**_Superman_**

_Sheer dumb luck…_

Harry didn't know how else to describe his good fortune in managing to lose Filch and Mrs Norris after his little _oops_ moment in the Restricted Section; nothing else, but that could have been responsible for him finding the open door that led into an empty, unoccupied room.

As he leaned against the door to catch his breath and wait for the right chance to leave the room and return to Gryffindor Tower, Harry suddenly found his eyes drawn towards something that he hadn't noticed upon finding or entering the room. Laid against the far corner of the room, partially-shadowed by the darkness from inside and outside the room, was a large, dark-coloured object that, as he approached it cautiously, Harry couldn't help but notice resembled a mirror of some sort.

This was even more true because of how he could see his own reflection looking back at him even as he approached the strange mirror, examining its dark frame, as well as how old, if not _ancient_ it appeared to be. Along the top of the mirror's frame, there seemed to be a string of letters forming words that seemed unreadable to Harry.

**Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi**

Frowning in confusion at the sight of the words, Harry returned his attention to the mirror for a single moment before, as he stared at his reflection, the eyes of the young Gryffindor widened suddenly as he saw two pale shadows suddenly appear behind him.

Fearing the worst, Harry spun around to see what was there; however, to his bewilderment, he found that the room was still empty, save for him and the strange mirror. Returning his attention to the mirror did nothing, except confuse Harry as he watched the pale shadows reappear, both of them now taking their places on either side of the Harry in the mirror.

For a moment, Harry wondered whether the people in the mirror were invisible, or whether this mirror was somehow enchanted to show someone else who might be looking in an identical mirror from another location. And yet, as he looked at the two people standing either side of him, he felt a cold shiver pass over him when he noticed there was something eerily familiar about both of them.

One of them was a youthful-looking man with round, wire-frame glasses and wild, raven-black hair that looked almost-exactly as messy and unkempt as Harry's; his companion, on the other hand, was a fair-skinned young lady with red hair that was warm and bright to behold, as well as an air of warmth and compassion about her as her strange reflective self looked upon Harry.

However, when Harry saw the woman's eyes, seeing two eyes that were _exactly_ the same colour as his own, his blood ran cold while tears suddenly sprang unbidden to his eyes as he stared at the two figures, taking in more of their features, such as the proud, noble air held by the man as well as the kind, free-spirited sense of love and warmth shown by the woman.

Finally, with trembling lips and tears that blatantly refused to be left unshed, Harry lifted a weak, trembling hand as he whispered, "M-M-Mum?"

The redhead smiled and nodded, earning a small, but still-tearful smile from Harry as he looked to the man next to him, "D-D-Dad?"

The man in the mirror nodded once, smiling with the same warmth and pride as the female.

Harry could _not_ bring himself to look away, even for a second, as he stared at them, the frozen…well, _unfrozen_, reflective images of his parents, seeing them for the first time _ever_ while, as he looked at them, Harry felt new tears roll down his cheek when the reflection of Lily Potter actually _spoke_ to him.

"How _are_ you, sweetheart? Are you doing okay at school?"

"You…" Harry whispered, his voice barely audible over the drumming sounds of his heartbeat hammering inside his chest, while his eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked from Lily to James as he asked, "You…you want to know about school?"

"We want to know _everything,_ Prongslet," answered the image of James Potter.

Harry _knew_ he should feel confused, if not horrified at the way the images in the mirror were speaking to him; he also knew he should question who or what _Prongslet_ was and how it was they were even speaking to him, but, at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Sniffing sadly, wiping tears of delight and pain from his emerald-green eyes, Harry smiled weakly before he whispered, "I…it's a long story…"

_**Superman**_

**The Next Night**

"Harry, welcome back."

"Thanks Mum," smiled Harry, sitting at the base of the mirror while he stared up at the reflections of his parents, his smile lighting up the expressions of the phantoms in the mirror while he also noticed how both Lily and James' images lowered themselves down, so it looked like they were all sitting there, as if they were having a picnic.

Curling his knees to his chest, Harry felt his heart clench in his chest as he already felt the tears threatening to show themselves when James asked him, "So, what do you want to tell us, son?"

_Son._

The word was like a knife in Harry's heart as he looked to the ghostly images of his parents before he sniffed again as he explained, "I'm sorry I left so quickly yesterday. I thought…if I was caught…"

"It's all right, sweetheart," said Lily Potter, her voice soft, but comforting, which only made Harry's heart feel warm _and_ cold at the same time as the redhead told him, "Just take your time…and be thankful you closed the door this time."

Harry couldn't help but laugh, though when he _heard_ James' laugh join his, it seemed to banish the cold, even as he looked to them before he whispered, "I've missed you both _so_ much; believing what the Dursleys told me…thinking that you abandoned me…"

"What _did_ they tell you, kiddo?" asked James, earning a look of surprise from Harry as he looked to his Father, who nodded before he said, "It's okay; you can speak freely with us. We will _never_ judge you, be ashamed of you or hate anything you say, so go ahead, Harry; tell us _everything._"

For what seemed like the better part of an hour or so, Harry let the dam burst in his emotions as he told his _family_ about the life he had lived in Privet Drive; despite the fact there was a part of him that knew he _should_ be embarrassed to speak his mind, he didn't leave anything out. He told them about the cupboard, about the lies and constant bile and hatred that the Dursleys showed him.

He also told them of all the work the Dursleys forced him to do if he hoped to be given the most-basic necessities like food, not to mention how, thanks to their lies and the way Dudley would beat on anyone and everyone who got close to him, he'd had no friends at school. This also led to him talking about the _games_ of Harry Hunting that had usually resulted in him using some sort of Accidental Magic.

When he reached the part about him discovering the truth about himself, thanks to Hagrid, Harry paused in his explanations before, rubbing his eyes sleepily, he sniffed softly as he told them, "I…I need…I've never told anyone that, not even my friends."

"You will never have to keep anything from _us,_ sweetheart," said Lily, her voice still as soft and warm as it always was, despite the fact that her only son – figuratively-speaking – had just told her and James that her own family treated him no better than a servant.

"I…I know…" agreed Harry, looking up at the images in the mirror before he sniffed sadly as he explained, "That's why it hurts so much to…to have to leave again."

"Of course you do," agreed James, nodding with an air of encouragement as he explained, "A man needs his rest to stay healthy and strong; don't worry, kiddo, we understand."

And thus, the second night came to an end…

_**Superman**_

For the better part of the next week, Harry visited the strange room with the mirror and spoke with his parents for as long as he could each and every night; around them, he left nothing out.

He told them of his dreams and how he saw the world of both the Muggle and Magical people alike; he told them of how he had been when he'd learned he was a wizard _and_ how he had often been hurt or punished for using Accidental Magic, being forced to call it something freakish. But now, here at Hogwarts, he told them of how he wanted to be able to learn as much as he could about magic so that, the next time anything went south for him, he wasn't weak, helpless or alone against the danger.

He then went on to tell them about his friends, as well as the curiosities he felt about people like Snape and how they treated him, but never gave any just cause or reason. He also talked about Quidditch and his lessons and how much he was enjoying the chance to have real friends, though, to Harry's surprise more than the seemingly-fixed warm expressions of his parents' reflections, the one friend he spoke more about was Hermione.

Talking about her seemed to lead to more than just revelation for Harry, especially on the first night of the new term.

_**Superman**_

"I don't know why I laughed at the bad impersonation of Hermione on Halloween Night, but when I heard she was in trouble, I felt compelled to help her, even going as far as risking my own safety just to make sure she got out all right."

"That's the mark of a true friend," said James, earning a shrug from Harry as he turned away from the mirror and leaned his head against the cool reflective surface while he closed his eyes, as though he couldn't bring himself to look at the mirror for a second longer.

"Is it, though?" he wondered, feeling his heart grow cold again while, now he wasn't looking at the mirror, Harry felt a small part of his awareness flare up again, like a persistent visitor knocking at the door, demanding to be let in, but he wouldn't let it.

Not until he'd said his piece.

"She…she _is_ a true friend," admitted Harry, smiling thinly while he went on, "She's probably the only one who _is_ a real friend to me while everyone else comes to be around me because I'm their star Seeker or because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. In the few months I've been here, I've had a lot of different people claim to know my name and say what they expect of me, but none of them, not one, has even bothered to look past the scar or the title and see the _real_ me."

_I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than some pretty face beside a train and it's not easy to be me_

Harry didn't know why, but he suddenly heard words in his head, which summed up his feelings pretty damn well; at the same time, he felt his hands clench into fists as he growled through clenched teeth, "Now that I think about it, I don't think _anyone_ has bothered to see the real me since I started here. Even the adults in Diagon Alley only knew me because…because…"

Suddenly, the thought that had hammered at the edge of Harry's consciousness finally managed to breach his defences, bringing with it a sense of horror and awareness that made Harry back away from the mirror, tears once again forming in his eyes as he gasped, "_No!_"

This time, no voices replied, though Harry didn't seem to care; instead, he faced the mirror with a look of fury in his eyes as he hissed, "They're dead, gone, murdered…and I…I'm all alone…and no mirror…no _magic_ will bring them back…"

As he fell to his knees again, sobbing profusely while cursing how stupid, how blind and how naïve he had been, Harry felt his heart grow cold again as he hissed, "They're dead, I'm alone and…and I might as well be dead with them because…because nobody seems to be too bothered about seeing, knowing and learning about _me…_"

"Oh no…"

Suddenly, Harry's head snapped up when he heard a voice respond to his remarks; at the same time, he felt his heart grow warm _and_ cold at the same time when he saw a familiar head of bushy-brown hair, as well as the rest of her, which was dressed in a rather cute-looking set of girl's pyjamas, now standing with him in the room with the mirror.

Hermione Granger stood there, her eyes wider than wide while her jaw was slack with awe, realisation and sorrow, all of which she showed even as she looked into Harry's eyes.

For a moment, which seemed to stretch out into an hour and maybe even longer, neither Gryffindor said anything; they just stood there, staring at one another, both of them seemingly frozen in time while, as Harry looked at Hermione, he felt his lip tremble with pain and hurt.

How much had she heard?

How had he _not_ noticed she might be following him?

_Why_ had she followed him?

Before he could get the answer to _any_ of those questions, Harry gasped suddenly when he was brought back to the present by the feel of Hermione's arms wrapping around him, pulling him close while she rested his head against her shoulder. Once again, neither student said anything, but as Harry held onto Hermione, he felt his defences shatter again, bringing with it a feeling of new pain, hurt and trauma, the likes of which he suddenly realised he'd _never_ been able to feel, be it in Privet Drive or here in Hogwarts.

With this feeling coursing through him, Harry sobbed like the child he was while he actually moved his arms so that he held Hermione just like she held him close, providing the friendship, comfort and support he needed now.

Feeling nothing but gratitude for this act, Harry sniffled sadly, trying to find strength in his voice as he whispered in her ear, "I'm more than a scar…"

"I know," whispered Hermione.

"I'm more than a title…"

"I know."

"I'm more…I _want_ to be more than just their son…known for…for being like them…"

"Then you know what to do, don't you?" asked Hermione, parting from the embrace before she wiped the tears from Harry's eyes, smiling at him with the same friendly air she'd often showed around him as she explained, "You need to _let_ people know you are _more,_ Harry…"

Here, Harry felt a small laugh rise up inside him when Hermione lifted a hand and pulled off his glasses, bringing the world into fuzzy view for him, but, at the same time, he could still make her out as she told him, "You need to take off these glasses and show the world who you _really_ are…and if they can't accept that part of you, that's their problem. People like that…they're not friends…they're just part of the crowd."

Returning Harry's glasses to his face, Hermione moved away from Harry as she added, "The next thing you need to do is stop coming here; I've read about that mirror and…and it's not a good thing, Harry."

This time, Harry was the one to say it, even as he looked back to see the ghosts of his parents smiling at him, before he looked back to his friend;

"I know…"

**The One-Shot - and this time, it's STAYING a one-shot - is done.**

**Like I said, it was a random idea that came to me and, tbh, despite the vast support I received, I realise now it's better as a one-shot, so it's staying that way.**

**THE END**


End file.
